


A Needle Pulling Thread

by james



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, truffles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22381543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley go on a picnic; Aziraphale has other things in mind.  Like driving lessons.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	A Needle Pulling Thread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/gifts).



“So,” Aziraphale said, clapping his hands on his knees. He was kneeling on the ground, back on his feet with the tips of his shoes off the edge of the blanket, on the grass. For all they'd been lounging around on the picnic blanket, enjoying the basket lunch Aziraphale had packed, he looked entirely spotless and put together, as though they'd been dining at the Ritz.

The look on Crowley's face was one of not-quite disbelief. He'd known Aziraphale too long to think he would ever look untidy, but still, there were times when one might have expected a wrinkle in a shirt, or a cuff a bit out of place.

Once Crowley had accused the angel of miracling his clothing to stay neat and tidy and he'd received such a look of horror that he'd spent an entire decade apologising.

At the moment, Crowley was lying back, propped up on one elbow, toying with an empty wineglass as if hoping someone would say oh gracious, there seems to be one more bottle of wine, how did I miss it, silly me.

Aziraphale gave him a very cheerful smile, and looked towards the Bentley. “I think it's time for my first lesson.” He stood up, smoothly like someone who hadn't drunk an entire bottle's worth of wine while nibbling on crackers and fresh fruits, some of which weren't actually in season in the northern hemisphere.

“Uh,” Crowley said, doing a bit of surreptitious demonic sobering up as he pushed himself forward. “I'm sorry, what?”

“My first driving lesson!” Aziraphale smiled again, the sort of bright, blinding smile that did a very good job of distracting demons and humans alike. It worked particularly well on a certain demon who swore he'd built up an immunity to that sort of thing.

“Driving. What, driving lesson?” Crowley leapt to his feet, as Aziraphale began walking towards the car. “Driving lesson? Wait, you were serious?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale glanced back with the barest hint of a frown – exactly the sort which usually led to all kinds of apologies and miracled cheesecakes. Again, exactly the sort of thing Crowley insisted did not happen, not to him, not to a demon who's seen that look a million times, angel.

Crowley scrambled to follow him, and found himself faced with the very unusual – in fact extremely rare – position of climbing into his own car's passenger seat. He did so, and sat there for several moments blinking at it all.

Aziraphale, meanwhile, was looking at the dashboard, poking a bit at various buttons, then placed his hands on the steering wheel.

“You seriously wanted a driving lesson?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale frowned again, and Crowley almost found himself mirac-- er, demonicing up a box of chocolates in the glove box. “That's why we came all the way out here,” he nodded towards the very empty field and the equally empty roads they'd arrived on. “For you to teach me how to drive.”

Crowley blinked. He blinked again. He didn't find that it helped at all and rubbed his face with his hand. “You... you need to drive somewhere? Angel, you know I'll drive you anyplace you want to go. Whether or not cars can normally go there.” He smiled, thinking of the time he'd driven up to the North Pole to watch the Aurora Borealis. 

Aziraphale smiled – dimpled a bit, even – at him and Crowley vaguely noticed a box of dark chocolate and rosé truffles appearing in a shiny white box in the back seat. “I would still like to learn how to drive, my dear.” He gestured at the dash. “Now, how exactly does it work?”

“You...you....” Crowley took a deep breath, which he didn't actually need on a physical level, but on an emotional level needed very much. “Are you buying a car?”

Aziraphale looked horrified. “Why on Earth would I buy a car?”

“Oh, well, yeah, I mean,” Crowley nodded and tried very hard to remember exactly what had happened during the conversation when Aziraphale had first said he wanted to learn how to drive. “Not going to buy a lorry for the shop, are you?”

As Aziraphale frowned at him again, nose wrinkling, the box of truffles gained a twin. “Why would I purchase a lorry?” He managed to make it sound like Crowley was the one who wasn't making a lick of sense.

“I don't know, angel, why do you want to learn how to drive a car?”

“Because it seems like a thing to do,” he said, which didn't clear a single thing up. “Now, I turn it on, right.” He reached down and fiddled with the ignition. There wasn't a key, of course, Crowley didn't even remember what had happened to the original key. Probably there _had_ been one.

“Look, Aziraphale, if you do need to go somewhere, in a car, and for some reason I'm not around to drive you, just.... You can borrow the Bentley any time you like. And...you don't have to drive it, you know. The Bentley will take you anywhere you like.”

“Well, of course,” Aziraphale said, rolling his eyes just a bit, but smiling. The boxes of truffles wondered briefly about adding a bottle of champagne, but decided it wasn't necessary. Yet.

“I mean, just...tell it where you want to go. It'll take you there. You don't have to, you know, drive it.” Crowley moved his hands like he was steering, and made himself stop, because honestly he did look like an idiot.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, turning a bit in his seat and staring at him. A bottle of champagne popped into existence next to the three boxes of truffles. “Are you going to teach me how to drive?”

“Well, you... I mean.. you just....” He made another vague gesture like steering, then let his hands fall. He took a deep breath. “You get in, twist the ignition like you're starting the engine, then just wherever it is you want to go, the Bentley drives there. You can steer, it's part of the fun.” Crowley sat back, folding his arms across his chest, pouting.

There was a moment of silence, then in a far too-delighted tone, Aziraphale said, “You don't know how to drive, do you?”

“I've had this car for _decades_ , angel!”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, grinning like he'd won a prize. Or had seen the contents of the backseat. “But you don't drive, do you? You sit here and play with the wheel and expect the car to get you where you want to go, and it does.”

“Wha--” Crowley narrowed his eyes. “Did you actually want to learn how to drive a car?”

There was a pause, like Aziraphale was laughing at him, then he gave Crowley a slightly horrified look. “Why would I want to learn how to drive? Horses were bad enough. Walking, I must say, is the best way to go about. The way She meant us to; although boats are quite lovely. I do like a good boat ride. Those kayaks – such a shame the New World got so many roads put in. Kayaking through the rivers was so relaxing.” 

Crowley stared at him. “You,” was as far as he got, before his brain sputtered out again.

Grinning like the devil himself -- and Crowley understood how ironically wrong that was, because Satan never grinned, he certainly didn't play jokes on innocent demons who were just trying to have a nice relaxing afternoon in the countryside -- Aziraphale poked him on the shoulder.

“You have no idea how to drive a proper car,” Aziraphale said, triumphantly.

“And you set me up,” Crowley grumbled, even though deep down he was delighted. He could enjoy Aziraphale being _playful_ for centuries. Not that he precisely wanted to be the target. “How is it you're the Good One, anyways? I thought angels were supposed to be _nice_ to people.” He got out of the car and grabbed the truffles out of the backseat, opening one as he stomped back towards the picnic blanket they'd left. He popped one of the truffles in his mouth, then remembered quite vividly how much he did not like the taste of sugar.

“Eueow,” he stuck his tongue out, trying to wipe it clean.

“Tsk,” Aziraphale had caught up with him, and tugged at Crowley's jacket, spinning him to face the angel. He reached up as though to wipe a smear of chocolate from Crowley's face, then simply leaned forward and kissed him. “Better?” he asked, as though Crowley were supposed to be able to think clearly after having Aziraphale's tongue pressing gently into his mouth.

“Buwaraargh,” Crowley told him.

“Good.” Aziraphale took the boxes from him, and walked back to the blanket and sat neatly down.

Crowley stood there for a moment, then asked, “Seriously, how is it you're the Good One?”

Aziraphale just smiled, dimples and all, and Crowley sighed. 

A fourth box of truffles joined the others, as well as a plate of cheeses.


End file.
